Belcampo a bonanza for meat lovers

The meatballs with tomato cream is a standout at Belcampo Meat Co. in Larkspur.

The meatballs with tomato cream is a standout at Belcampo Meat Co. in Larkspur.

Photo: John Storey, Special To The Chronicle

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The interior of Belcampo in Larkspur, where diners order at the counter, and the food is brought to them.

The interior of Belcampo in Larkspur, where diners order at the counter, and the food is brought to them.

Photo: John Storey, Special To The Chronicle

Image 3 of 4

The Meat Board changes every night, but always has a variety of offerings.

The Meat Board changes every night, but always has a variety of offerings.

Photo: John Storey, Special To The Chronicle

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Butcher Joshua Martin hangs some meat for aging at Belcampo.

Butcher Joshua Martin hangs some meat for aging at Belcampo.

Photo: John Storey, Special To The Chronicle

Belcampo a bonanza for meat lovers

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Few restaurants have as strong a point of view as Belcampo Meat Co. in the Marin Country Mart, just across the highway from the Larkspur Ferry Terminal. I mention the ferry because if you live in San Francisco, you can hop on a boat and enjoy a day or evening of shopping and sustainable eating as a reward.

Belcampo is the vision of Anya Fernald, and the heart of the business is a meat market where she controls every step of production, from the raising of the animals to processing, butchering and aging. You can see all the cuts laid out in the service cases in the retail butcher store, which you walk through on your way to the dining room.

The idea of knowing where your food comes from is reinforced as you stand at the counter to order and glimpse, through a large stainless-steel-rimmed porthole, the cooler where the sides and haunches of meat are hanging. It's like an eye into the soul of the operation.

It's truly an exciting concept, yet for the circle to be complete, the end product and the customer need to be given the same amount of respect as the animals. That's where things can go slightly astray, depending on who's in the kitchen and behind the counter. Not horribly, mind you, but in small ways with the food and larger in the service.

After ordering from the meat-centric menu, diners pick up a number and place it on the wood table, and the food is brought to them. The French dip sandwich ($11) with a beefy jus was served at room temperature, and the accompanying beef tallow fries appeared to have cooled too long on the counter. Cold and limp, they lost much of their luster.

On that visit, the salad dressing was short on salt and heavy on acid, which worked against the pristine greens, and large slices of fatty bacon in a purple cabbage salad ($7) were underdone.

On the other hand, the hamburger ($11) was marvelous, a medium-cooked patty topped with lettuce, a sauce of house-made aioli mixed with ketchup and a well-toasted sesame bun. You could taste the quality of the beef with each bite. I learned later that the burger was supposed to have cheese and onions; both were missing, but it was fine without them.

Lethargic service

This also points up the bigger issue with service, which is disorganized and lethargic. On a dinner visit, one of the choices was "Meat Board for Two ($80): Steaks, Chops and Sausages," so I asked what was on the meat board. The person behind the counter reacted as if I had insulted her intelligence.

"It's printed on the menu," she said with an audible sigh as she went about refilling stainless steel buckets with the cloth towels and utensils that would be placed the wooden tables.

"It only says 'Steaks, Chops and Sausages,' so what specifically is on it?" I replied. She glared at me again, went over to what I presumed was a printed list taped by the register and returned to filling the buckets without saying a word.

"Well?" I asked. She then turned to an employee on my side of the counter and said: "Can you tell him what's on the meat board?"

"Sure," he said cheerfully. "It changes every night, but there's always a steak - what's the steak tonight?" he asked the same woman who had refused to answer me. "New York," she answered.

Not a great way to begin a meal, but the Meat Board turned out to be the perfect advertisement for what Belcampo is about. The care in raising the meat was obvious in every fork-tender bite of rib-eye, juicy pork tenderloin, mildly gamey lamb chops and a thick pork chop with a frenched bone and sear that gave it a bacon-like flavor. There were also four finger-size lengths of Marquez sausage, next to two triangles of maitre d' hotel butter and chimichurri sauce.

Changing menu

On my final visit, the Meat Board offerings were scrawled on a small blackboard menu that also included a la carte items like eye of chuck ($15). The chuck goes nicely with the mixed chicories ($6/$9) with a tangy sherry vinaigrette that cut the richness of the beef. On one visit I asked for the duck giblet confit ($2/$3) on top, but it never arrived. On my final visit, knowing the pitfalls, we asked for the cashier to repeat the order and, sure enough, several things had been forgotten.

The menu changes constantly. One time the soup was roasted garlic, another time it was potato leek, and on my third visit it was cream of chicken ($8) that had the consistency and bold taste of gravy, filled with so much shredded chicken it was missing just the dumplings to be considered a rich main course.

On that night, the kitchen also offered braised turkey for two ($26), huge chunks of meat in a rich Port sauce with prunes and carrots. I over-ordered - which is easy to do here - so I took most of it home. It was excellent the next day with a little orzo.

Another signature dish that is always on the menu is the meatballs ($12), two tender orbs in a tomato cream sauce with fried garlic toast; a little pasta and it would have been the best spaghetti and meatballs around, but they were so good on their own I didn't leave any to take home to check it out.

No desserts

No desserts are offered, but there is a chocolate or vanilla milk shake ($6) that makes a good stand-in, along with Blue Bottle French press coffee ($6/$10) and house-made lemonade ($3). There are also five wines; four of them are white such as the 2010 Filippo Gallino Arneis ($8 glass/$33 bottle), which is $12-$17 retail. Five local beers ($6) are also available.

The casual style and straightforward menu has made Belcampo very popular with locals; you'll see a lot of families, particularly on weekends. There's also a patio that is starting to get some serious use. Inside, the tables are lined up in rows and diners can view what's going on in the kitchen and as well as what's for sale - olive oils, sauces, cookbooks and the like - in the retail area.

Being surrounded by these products is inspiring and helps make the food special. I just hope at some point the customer fits into the equation.

Prices are based on main courses. When entrees fall between these categories, the prices of appetizers help determine the dollar ratings. Chronicle critics make every attempt to remain anonymous. All meals are paid for by The Chronicle. Star ratings are based on a minimum of three visits. Ratings are updated continually based on at least one revisit.